Captain's Prerogative
by kaye22
Summary: Chapters 2 and 3 added. Captain Dobey is shot while serving a warrant with Starsky and Hutch. While he recuperates, the boys have to deal with his replacement someone from their past.
1. Chapter 1

Captain's Prerogative

by Kaye

The bodies fell, the smoke cleared and Hutch scrambled from behind the couch. He shouted out to Starsky, who was rolling out from behind the chair, cursing.

"Starsk – you okay?"

"Damn, tore my jeans."

"Starsky, you got weird priorities. Guy almost blows your head off and you're worried about your crummy blue jeans." Hutch stood, slipping his Magnum back into the holster, kicking guns away from bodies. Never hurt to be sure – he'd hate to get it in the back from a perp who was supposed to be dead.

"Guess you can buy me a new pair, Captain – thanks for the warning." Starsky turned to the doorway where Dobey had been standing when the gunfight erupted.

They had all three gone to serve the warrant on Jimmy Shoes, a lieutenant in Stryker's little mafia kingdom. They had been working for the better part of the year to bring him down – got the break they needed last night when Dobey had stumbled upon an old bench warrant and used it to get a new search warrant on Shoe's donut shop. They found all the evidence they needed. Automatic weapons, drugs, the ledger where Jimmy had painstakingly written each and every sale in even columns. It had turned out to be one of the best nights of Starsky's life as he helped himself to at least two dozen donuts while he searched.

But Jimmy Shoes must have gotten wind of the arrest warrant, because when they arrived, they were shown into the house nicely enough, and then lured into the living room where two goons were waiting. If Dobey hadn't noticed the shadow of a man in the kitchen, they would have all needed the coroner's wagon. Starsky, for once, was glad his captain came with them.

"Oh, God. . ."

Starsky heard Hutch's soft prayer and saw him huddled over the still figure of Dobey, sprawled in the doorway. Hutch turned to Starsky, eyes wide. Starsky knelt beside him, assessing the damage. There was blood everywhere. Looked like the captain got one in the leg, the shoulder, and somewhere in the midsection.

The captain groaned and opened his eyes. He knew he had been hit by the first bullet out of Tiny McGraw's gun. Tiny had been just inside the kitchen door, his .38 aimed at Starsky's chest. He had shouted out the warning, which sent Starsky over the back of the chair, and the .38 swung around to him. He had been caught in the frame of the door.

"You guys okay?" Dobey whispered. He wondered if Starsky was going to cry. Dobey moved his hand and laid it on Starsky's knee. "Ripped your pants, son?"

Starsky looked at Hutch, felt the panic rise in his throat. Hutch grabbed a pillow from the couch and pressed it against Dobey's leg. He tossed Starsky the other pillow and Starsky shoved it under Dobey's suit coat, pressing firmly on the captain's shoulder.

Detective Campos, first on the scene, stopped in the doorway. "Son of a . . ."

"Manny – get a fucking ambulance!" Hutch roared, coming to life. He turned to Dobey.

"Captain, how you doing?"

"How does it look like I'm doing? I'm bleeding like a stuck pig and all I got is you two hovering over me like mother hens. Hurts like hell. . ."

He grimaced and tried to move away from the pain. Starsky felt blood seep through fabric of the pillow and pressed harder. Dobey reached up to push Starsky away, relieve the pressure, but his hand was caught by Hutch.

"Don't move, Cap – we don't know what kind of damage you got going on. Try not to move. Help's coming." Hutch looked at Starsky and shook his head, worried.

"Will you two cut that shit out?" Dobey managed a ghost of his usual growl.

"What shit?" Starsky thought maybe the Captain was delirious.

"That eye thing. Like you think I don't see you." Dobey groaned and took in a breath. He forgot how much getting shot hurt. The last time he had been in this position, the man holding his chest had been boohooing like a baby. Elmo Jackson, big, tough, badass detective, clutching his hand, bawling his eyes out . . .

_"You better not fucking die on me, Harold."_

"Harold? Now I know it's serious. Come on, Elmo – get a grip. People's gonna be here soon and what are they gonna think – you laying all over me, crying?"

"What eye thing?" Starsky asked, bringing the captain back to the present.

"You know what eye thing," he croaked. "Every blasted thing I say to you two – you check it with each other. Gets downright disrespectful . . . see right there, that's what I mean."

Starsky had glanced at Hutch when Dobey was talking, to see if Hutch thought Dobey might have hit his head or something. They both made an effort to focus only on Dobey's face, which was pale and sweating.

"Hang on, Cap – help is coming. You just hang on," Starsky soothed.

Sirens echoed through the room and two paramedics came barreling in. Hutch moved out of the way and as Starsky tried to move to make room, Dobey grabbed his arm and pull him back down.

"Don't tell Edith, yet."

"But Cap. . ."

"No, Starsky – not yet. That's an order. Wait till you know I'm gonna make it."

Starsky looked at Hutch, remembered the captain's reprimand, and quickly looked back down. "Okay, Cap – not till we know."

Captain Dobey closed his eyes, hoping his life insurance policy would be enough for the kids.

To be continued . . .


	2. Chapter 2

Captain's Prerogative – Part II By Kaye

"This is weird." Starsky handed Hutch a cup of coffee.

They were in the surgery waiting room. Edith Dobey sat on the couch opposite them, cradling a sleeping Rosie, while Cal stretched out his long legs on the floor beside them. The rest of the chairs were filled with cops. Cops lined the hallway all the way down to admitting. Cops waited in line in the cafeteria, buying up every donut and sweet roll in the place. Outside, at least six cops huddled around a trash can, smoking. Waiting. Hoping. Praying.

"What's weird?" Hutch took the coffee and scooted over so Starsky could share part of his chair.

"I never sat in a waiting room _with_ you. Always _for_ you. Feels weird."

"Yeah. . ." Hutch was not about to follow Starsky down that particular road. He had spent the good part of a month in this hospital – his back was well acquainted with many of these chairs. Plus, maudlin was an emotion he didn't need to add to his growing list. He was having a hard enough time appearing brave for Edith. He knew it was going to be close, if they had gotten Cap here in time. But there had been so much blood. He was getting so tired of mopping up other people's blood. He was getting so tired of waiting in waiting rooms. He rubbed a hand over his face, leaned over and placed a hand on Edith's shoulder.

"How are you doing?" he asked.

Although they had promised their captain they wouldn't tell Edith, Starsky had immediately driven over and picked her and kids up on the way to the hospital. Dobey would just have to deal with it. He knew that the wrath of Captain Dobey paled in comparison to the wrath of a cop's wife kept in the dark about her husband's shooting.

"How long, Ken?"

Hutch looked at his watch. "Six hours. Doctor said it might take a while."

Detective Manny Campos came around the corner. "Can I see you guys?"

Starsky and Hutch followed him around the corner. Conversation stopped, and a sizable crowd gathered around the three detectives. Campos opened his mouth to complain, but Starsky laid a hand on his arm.

"We all wanna know, Campos. Let it be."

Campos took a breath and then started talking in low tones. "Looks like you guys got Tiny McGraw and Lester Collins. No sign of Jimmy Shoes, Wally Stover, or anybody else. You were set up from the word go."

"Fucking Shoes," muttered Starsky, "what do we gotta do to get a break with that guy?"

The doctor walked down the hall toward Edith Dobey. The officers moved as a unit as they followed the doctor, surrounding the family and Hutch, who took Rosie in his arms as Edith stood and faced the doctor. And the news.

"He's out of surgery. We got all the fragments. Took the appendix. He lost a lot of blood, but I think if we can keep the infections down, he should be okay."

Edith sagged into Starsky's arms. Starsky gently led her into a chair.

Cal stood, next to his mother and took her hand. "It's okay, Mom – I told you he's gonna be okay. Dad's tough."

Starsky patted Cal on the back. "You got that right, Cal – probably be back chewing my tail in no time."

As the news traveled down the halls, through the cafeteria and outside, the hospital emptied – officers headed back to the job, back to their lives, and back out on the streets. Until the next time. For these officers, there would always be a next time. A cop gets used to hospitals.

"When can I see him?" Edith asked the doctor.

"Come with me, Mrs. Dobey – he's in recovery, but you can wait and go with him when they transfer him to ICU."

"Cal, watch your sister," Edith called back as she followed the doctor down the hall.



Starsky walked into the squad room the next morning with a wicked headache, drums banging in both ears, and his sunglasses pulled down over bloodshot eyes. He and Hutch had celebrated the captain's close call at Huggy's until very late – until Huggy had called a cab for them both, walking them out and shoving them into it, ignoring the protests of the cabbie and the loud singing of one very hammered Hutch.

Starsky had flashed his badge at the poor man, and then immediately dropped it into the gutter, and Huggy had to slip the cabbie an extra twenty before he would pull away from the curb. The last glimpse Huggy caught of his sauced friends was Starsky's white ass, hanging out the window, mooning him a goodbye.

"Why I put up with those two. . ." Huggy had muttered as he walked back into The Pits. Of course he knew why he put up with them. He loved them. And he knew them well enough to know that the events of the day had shaken them – more than they would ever admit. From what Huggy had gathered, in between the macho retelling and then the drunken, more emotional retelling, was that if it hadn't been for Dobey, the gathering this night would have been a wake – for Starsky. Too soon after the last disaster for any of them to handle sober.

So Starsky was not in the best of shape this morning. But he was no worse than Hutch, who followed Starsky through the door, a weary frown, bloodshot eyes, matching sunglasses. Hutch walked over, poured himself a cup of coffee, and sank into his chair. Starsky straddled his own chair and laid his head on the desk.

Manny Campos watched the scene with interest. He knew something that neither one of them could even imagine. And he was more than happy to enlighten them.

"Hey, Starsk," he called out.

"Campos – Jesus, keep it down," Hutch grimaced over the edge of his cup.

"Manny," Starsky muttered, his head still down on his arms, "don't talk to me today."

"Just thought you guys would want to go meet the new Captain." Campos watched as both heads swung around to him. He was enjoying this. Usually it was Starsky and Hutch instigating the mayhem around the squad room. Now it was his turn.

"What new Captain?" Starsky shoved the sunglasses up on his head so he could get a better look at the smirk on Campos' face.

"Seeing that Dobey's gonna be laid up a while, they sent a replacement." Campos kept his voice even, his manner casual – this was going to be fun.

"Who?" Hutch asked.

Campos waited for a beat. He noticed the rest of the squad was listening, waiting for the reaction they all knew was coming. The room grew very still.

"Oh, well, I think you know her, Starsky." Campos baited the hook.

"Know who?" Starsky stood, took the bait.

"I think you worked for her once . . . didn't he, Campbell?"

Steve Campbell, who had been listening, frowned. "Hey, Manny – don't get me in the middle of this. I want no part of it."

Hutch had walked over till he was nose to nose with Campos. "Cut the shit, Manny – who is it?"

Campos ignored Hutch and turned back toward Starsky. "Well, Starsky, our new Captain is none other than . . ."

The opening of Dobey's door interrupted them. Everyone turned to see the object of the conversation glide through. Starsky turned last. The sunglasses fell down over his eyes as he whispered, "Kira."

Hutch just stood with his mouth open. He had heard through the grapevine that Kira had made Captain – he had used some choice words to express his ideas about the probable method she had used to climb so far so fast – but this had to be a mistake.

Kira, for her part, had the decency to look uncomfortable. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a bun; her slate-grey suit gave her a look of authority, even her shoes – one inch black pumps – screamed respectability. She looked from one man to the other, willing her hands to stop shaking. It was hard to enjoy the bitter irony of the situation when she stood so close. Her first command. What a joke. She figured she had about ten minutes before she got busted down to traffic.

"Sergeant Starsky – Sergeant Hutchinson." Kira smiled, trying to appear casual.

"No way," Starsky shook his head. "No fucking way."

Hutch rounded the desk and pulled Starsky toward the coffee pot. "Starsky – cool it . . ."

Starsky shrugged out of Hutch's grasp and shook his finger at Kira.

"No fucking way are you gonna be my Captain."

"Sergeant Starsky – if you would please come into my office. . ."

"Ain't your office," Starsky interrupted, "ain't never gonna be your office."

Campos had come around the other side of the desks and grabbed Starsky's left arm. Hutch had his right. They both felt the tension in Starsky's body as he glared at the woman he had, until this moment, only been able to call "fucking bitch."

"Come on, Starsky – not out here," Hutch whispered in his ear.

"Yeah, Starsk – not here." Manny felt just a little guilty. He knew that Starsky and this Captain had a history, but he never thought that Starsky would completely lose it the minute he saw her. He felt Hutch tug on Starsky and he did the same. They managed to get him through the door into Dobey's office. Kira followed and shut the door behind them.

The squad room erupted. Bets were laid, money changed hands. Odds were good the dynamic duo would not live to see the return of Dobey. A side bet had Starsky over Captain Gorgeous at two to one. Campbell, who had a bit more information than the rest since he had worked the case with them, bet a fifty dollar bill that one or both or all three would get suspended before the day was out.

"Ain't your office," Starsky interrupted, "ain't never gonna be your office."

Campos had come around the other side of the desks and grabbed Starsky's left arm. Hutch had his right. They both felt the tension in Starsky's body as he glared at the woman he had, until this moment, only been able to call "fucking bitch."

"Come on, Starsky – not out here," Hutch whispered in his ear.

"Yeah, Starsk – not here." Manny felt just a little guilty. He knew that Starsky and this Captain had a history, but he never thought that Starsky would completely lose it the minute he saw her. He felt Hutch tug on Starsky and he did the same. They managed to get him through the door into Dobey's office. Kira followed and shut the door behind them.

The squad room erupted. Bets were laid, money changed hands. Odds were good the dynamic duo would not live to see the return of Dobey. A side bet had Starsky over Captain Gorgeous at two to one. Campbell, who had a bit more information than the rest since he had worked the case with them, bet a fifty dollar bill that one or both or all three would get suspended before the day was out.


	3. Chapter 3

Captain's Prerogative – Part III By Kaye

Starsky stood just inside the door, arms pulled firmly into his sides, fists clinched. Hutch stood so that he was equal distance between his agitated partner and Kira, as she walked around to Dobey's chair, changed her mind, and settled onto the edge of the desk.

Campos slid casually to the other door, hoping to just slip out under the cloud of tension that had settled into the room.

"Detective Campos, you can go. . ."

"Oh, no, Manny stays," Hutch said evenly. "He's part of the squad, too. Plus, I don't particularly trust you, lady – I want a witness in here.

"Hey, really Hutch – looks like you got something to talk about . . ." Campos said.

"Got nothing to say . . . nothing." Starsky's eyes never left Kira.

"Please, guys – I know this is not the best situation, but can we just talk about it, for a minute – alone?" Kira crossed her arms and chose to look at Hutch.

Hutch wiped his face, pointed Campos into a chair, and turned his back on Kira, as he took hold of both Starsky's shoulder, cutting off his line of vision to Kira, and looked right into his eyes. He squeezed until Starsky was forced to look at him.

"No, Hutch. I don't care. No way . . ."

Hutch interrupted, "Listen to me, buddy. You gotta get a grip. We are going to fix this – but you can't get yourself suspended in the process."

He pulled Starsky closer, patting his back, and whispered, "We survived her once, we can do it again," and pulled away to look into his eyes again. "We just have to get some things straight, right?" He winked at Starsky and turned back to Kira.

Kira watched, fascinated by the exchange. She watched Starsky lower his head, take a deep breath, and walk over to the empty chair, settling on the arm before Hutch took the seat. She went around and sat in Dobey's chair, trying to regain the advantage that the surprise had given her – the advantage just negated by whatever Hutch had whispered to Starsky.

Manny felt the change in the room. He settled into his chair and crossed his legs. He tried to find a spot on the wall that could fascinate him for the rest of this confrontation he was forced to witness. He just hoped a subpoena was not in his future.

Kira cleared her throat. "Okay, gentlemen, here's the deal. Your Captain Dobey is out for at least six weeks. I have been assigned here. Not because I asked for it – God knows I'm not _that_ needy. . ."

Starsky stood at that, eyes blazing. Hutch pressed a hand on his back, and he sat back down.

". . .but because for the last few months I have been working on the task force that got you that warrant for Shoe's place. I was just about to serve a writ on Wally Stover's place when the call came through. Now the Chief thinks that we need to combine our resources and work on this together. And I have worked my ass off for too long to let you guys blow this chance for me because of one little incident. . ."

This was too much for Starsky. He stood and pushed himself into the desk. Hutch grabbed his arm, but he shrugged him off. Campos stood, ready to tackle Starsky if need be.

"_Incident_? You call what happened an _incident_?" Starsky pointed a finger, eyes blazing. "Lady, how you ever made Captain is beyond me. But if you think that me and Hutch will take orders from you – ever – you can just stick that. . ."

"Jesus, Dave – how old are you? You know I can have your badge right now for insubordination alone?" Kira stood, now furious. She leaned into Starsky's finger. "_Sergeant_, I suggest you cool it. Actually, I suggest you think seriously about some time off. In fact, why don't you take the rest of the day? Pull yourself together. Because whether you like it or not, for the next six weeks – you _do_ have to take orders from me."

Hutch grabbed Starsky and hauled him back into the chair. "Kira, we get it, okay. We get it. But there's something you need to know, too."

Campos stepped back as Hutch took Starsky's spot at the desk.

"We'll work with you, because that's our job. We don't have to like it, but we'll do it – because we're good cops. But – if at any point we don't feel you're doing _your_ job – or you put us in the trick bag – we'll take you down hard – promotion or no promotion. Got it?"

Kira stood silent for a moment, looking at both men. She had missed this part the last time. The unified front – the bond – the partnership. They were like two halves of a whole now. Not like last time, when she easily could tell them apart – in and out of bed. And now these jokers held her future in their hands.

"The irony just continues, doesn't it?" Kira sat back down. "Okay, Hutch – I read you – I stay out of your way – you don't act like children and blow the case. " She ignored Starsky's exclamation over that last part and looked at Detective Manny Campos, who was about to come out of his shoes.

"Campos – how are you doing?"

"Just fine, m'am. Can I go now?"

"Yes, I think we've got everything straightened out here, don't you? Oh, and I would appreciate it if you would address me as Captain."

Starsky got up, whirled around the chair and out the door without a word.

Hutch nodded to Kira and then followed his partner. Campos smiled and offered, "Uh, welcome to the squad, Captain." He closed the door behind him as he followed the others out the door. Kira laid her head on the desk. It was going to be a long six weeks.



Dobey felt pressure on his stomach. He opened his left eye to see the head of his wife resting on his stomach, her arm across his chest. He smiled. And then grimaced as the pain in his chest and his leg hit him at the same time.

Edith raised her head. She saw that her husband was awake and moved up to cradle his head in her hands. She lightly kissed his forehead, and then reached down and took his hand in hers.

"Forget to duck again, Harold?" Tears threatened as she watched him grimace in pain.

"Yeah, I guess. How am I doing?"

"Six hours on the table. Had to cut through the scar tissue to get to the one in your stomach – that's why it took so long. But the doctor says you're so rotten, it's gonna take more than bullets to stop you." Edith smiled again.

"Don't Edith." Dobey pulled her close. "I know how bad it was. I'm sorry."

Edith sat back down in her chair, laid her head on his stomach and cried.

Dobey patted her head, tears running down his own face. He hated like hell that he'd put her through it – again.

Edith stopped crying suddenly and lifted her head again. "But you almost killed the boys, you know. I didn't think Hutch was going to survive another minute in that waiting room. Starsky practically sat on his lap the whole time – making sure he was okay, while he was making sure I was okay."

"They were great, Edith – so damn proud of those boys – work like real pros –

especially Starsky. He came back a long way. How bout the kids – they okay? Didn't scare them too much?"

"Oh, Harold, you would have been so proud. Cal was so strong. Stood by me like a little sentinel. Took such good care of Rosie. They're at school now. I thought it would be better for them. Doctor said you'd be out for a long time."

"You get any sleep yet?"

"Yes, enough. And before you start to order me about – I'm staying here. Starsky took the day off and he's on the way here with lunch and a change of clothes. I'm not leaving."

Dobey smiled. He might be the big bad boss at work, but at home, he fell in line somewhere between Rosie and the cat. He liked it that way. He closed his eyes and remembered a conversation he had had a long time ago. . .

"_Dobey, you are one pussy-whipped mother." Elmo walked around to the driver's side of the car._

"_You're just jealous, Jackson – wish you had some sweet thing to come home to every night." Dobey crawled into the passenger side of Jackson's new car – a 1958 Cadillac convertible – white._

"_Yeah, come home to be ordered around all night long. Man can't get any peace with a woman telling him what to do all night."_

"_Yes, you're right, Elmo – it goes on all night long – all night. . ."_

"_Huh!"_

"_If you know what I mean . . . all night long . . . man gets tired working all night like that. . ."_

_Jackson gunned the engine and the Cadillac squealed into traffic. "You are one crazy bastard, you know that, Dobey?"_

"_Yes, but I'm not the one that bought the whitest car in all Bay City, did I? How we gonna work undercover in this thing?"_

"_I'll have you know, Sergeant Dobey – this car is the fastest thing going. Bad guys don't have a chance."_

"_Bad guys got plenty of chances because they're gonna see us coming a mile away in this thing – it's like we're driving in a big marshmallow. . ."_

"_Did you just call my car a marshmallow?"_

"How you doing, Cap?"

Dobey opened his eyes to see Starsky standing over him, holding out a greasy paper sack. "Up to some tacos? I snuck em in."

Edith quickly reached over and took the bag from Starsky. "David – he is not ready for tacos – ever. He's not supposed to eat solids for another day anyway. So don't tempt him."

"Yes, m'am – whatever you say." Starsky turned back to Dobey. "So, how you feeling?"

"Like I got shot."

"Yeah, scared us for a minute."

"Scared me for a minute – thought you bought it when you went over the

chair. . ."

Edith slipped out quietly as Starsky sat down beside her husband. They needed a moment together. She knew from experience and the conversation in the waiting room that this had been a close call. Too close, and too soon.

"You did real good, son." Dobey patted Starsky's hand. "Proud of you – how you've come back – know I don't tell you that often. . ."

Starsky snorted. "Often?"

"Rarely. . ."

"Rarely?"

"Okay – never. But I should. You're a fine officer. . ."

"Cap – what kind of drugs they got you on?" Starsky stood and grabbed Dobey's shoulder. "I know – you got all soapy after I got shot, too. Just glad you yell loud – would never have heard you."

"I'm just glad you still listen to me sometimes. Nice dive, by the way. Hurt anything?"

Starsky smiled. Just like Dobey to worry over him, while lying in a hospital bed. "Naw, I'm tough. Now you sure you don't want me to hide those tacos somewhere . . .?"

"No, the boss spoke."

Edith walked back in. "Yes I did."

Hutch followed behind, a stack of magazines and a portable radio in his arms.

"Hi Cap – good to see you up. Thought you might need some entertainment. I know this radio gets good reception in here. . ."

Starsky and Hutch exchanged a glance. That radio had kept them company on many long pain-filled nights during Starsky's recovery.

"Yeah, even gets the Sports Chat from San Francisco if you turn it just right." Starsky added.

"Thanks." Dobey moved, trying to find a comfortable spot. Now that he was fully awake, he couldn't find a place that didn't hurt.

Edith rubbed his arm and Starsky grabbed the top magazine from the pile. Hutch looked around for a plug. Somehow they all just fell back into a natural rhythm formed during the last time they had all been together in a hospital room. Hutch plugged in the radio, turned it to a classical station. Starsky frowned over the choice of music, but just leaned against the window, reading. Hutch moved over to Dobey, straightening the blankets, checking the IV. Dobey sighed against the pain, and then it finally registered with him.

"What the hell are you two doing here?" he growled.

"Harold – that's not nice. . ."

"We came to visit you, Cap. . ."

"No, I mean – why aren't you at work? Must have at least a day of reports to finish – plus I can't believe you're not out looking for Shoes. Now just because I'm laid up here for a while. . ." Dobey was revving up, despite the pain.

Edith laid a hand on his chest. "Harold – do not get worked up." She turned to Starsky and then looked at Hutch.

"So, what are you doing here?"

Starsky smiled and shrugged and Hutch looked at his shoes.

"What's going on?" Dobey said.

"Why is something going on? We just wanted to make sure you were okay. . "

"Cut the crap, Starsky – just tell me. I'll find out anyway. . ."

"Harold calm down. . ."

"Edith, I am not calming down until these boys tell me why all of a sudden they got hours and hours to spend with me."

Edith turned to Hutch. "Ken, you better tell him. I will not have him upset like this."

Starsky and Hutch exchanged a glance. Then Hutch spoke.

"Chief call you yet?"

Edith interrupted, "Yes, he came by, but Harold was sleeping."

"Well, you know they assigned us a new Captain . . ."

"Standard procedure, yeah, so?" Dobey struggled to sit up a little higher in the bed.

"So, well, our new Captain gave us the afternoon off." Starsky said.

"What did you do?" Dobey leveled his gaze at Starsky.

"Why do you think I did anything?"

"Starsky, I got shot, I'm not stupid – now what did you do – and who'd they assign to you? Simonetti? I know he just made Captain. . ."

"God, he did!" Starsky had not heard that good news. All of a sudden, Kira didn't seem quite so bad. If they had assigned that ratfink Simonetti to the squad, he would have already been fired. For sure.

"Hardesty. They assigned us Hardesty." Hutch said, proud of himself that he could appear so calm.

Dobey didn't say a word. Just sat for a minute, unsure. He knew the boys had some history with Kira Hardesty. She had worked the dancehall case with them. Rumor had it that she dated Starsky for a while. All he knew for sure was that it was during that case that he had to call them both into his office for a "come to Jesus" meeting. The first one he ever had to have with them. Gave them both a reprimand in their jackets. Didn't help – he lost them for a while. Then they came back – and seemed to be back to normal. Better. And then Starsky got shot in the parking lot . . .

"Captain, you remember Kira Hardesty?" Starsky asked.

"Yeah, yeah – remember you two acted like children around her. Something you need to tell me?"

Hutch spoke up before Starsky spilled everything. Ever since Starsky got shot, he had the tendency to not hold anything back. And Hutch thought that the less people who knew about that debacle, the better.

"No, Cap – its okay – we got it squared away. Just waiting on her to pull the files on Wally Stover and then we're gonna hit the ground running."

Captain Dobey looked from one to the other. He was not satisfied with the explanation, but knew he couldn't push anymore – between the pain in his shoulder and the glare of his wife – he had to let it go.

"Okay, just don't get into some kind of jam I can't get you out of, okay? My reach doesn't travel far from here."

"Okay, Cap." Starsky said.

"Yeah, okay, we know." Hutch followed.

Dobey closed his eyes and the nurse entered with another pain shot. He could use it.

to be continued. . .


End file.
